


I could be your soulmate, I could be your everything

by Laeana



Series: σh darling, we were meant to be. [2]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Feels, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Self-Esteem Issues, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:34:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27658229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeana/pseuds/Laeana
Summary: He fell in love with him at first sight and then realized, oh he realized, that they lived in a world populated by soulmates and that, yes maybe, the Aussie was his.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc (mentionned)
Series: σh darling, we were meant to be. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019431
Kudos: 52





	I could be your soulmate, I could be your everything

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [where did u go](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22230214) by [Laeana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeana/pseuds/Laeana). 



> featuring : Slow dance by Saint Motel

Max always thought he lived his life in a monochrome way. All white or all black. A theory that struggled to prove when he became Daniel's teammate because he always seemed to make things easier.

He fell in love with him at first sight and then realized, oh he realized, that they lived in a world populated by soulmates and that, yes maybe, the Aussie was his.

A presentiment, an idea. A bond that has always united them. And one day he saw it. This mark at the hip, barely visible, rising slightly, a small circle from which two waves are leaving. It always made him think of a sun and, ironically, of the older one.

He noticed it, he saw it. Never said anything about it. Is it really so complicated to admit the truth without making so many dramas and stories ?

For him, yes. 

He is afraid that the other does not want him, denies him, that they can never again be at least friends, because who would want him as a soulmate ?

He never managed to hurt his mate with his words. It was always like that for him. Brief actions, in the heat of the moment, impulsiveness, a pinch of bad decisions and all that in the end to lose his means in front of his former teammate when it comes to arguments.

But, if Daniel is the most gifted at choosing his words, his compliments, he is also the most talented at targeting weak points. Where it hurts the most.

Painful memory that the moment when they collide and have to finish the race together.

Where his partner doesn't want to see him and when he does it anyway is more cruel, cold, surely realistic, than he has ever been.

His shock when he realizes that this pain has left a mark on his skin. A black bruise that strews the top of his left thigh.

He had marks that appeared and disappeared. Depending on their interactions, the videos they sometimes shot, the moments spent together. But at the end of 2018, after a heated argument because, of course, he can only react badly to his departure, the departure of his soulmate, far from him, the Aussie left him with three marks.

Three ... it's not much. 

He's rationalizing, it's not much and he's been through worse anyway.

He feels his heart go numb, get cold. His less sincere smiles, his more restless sleep. He's alone now. Really alone. And his former teammate is only supposed to be a few meters away but everything is different and nothing will ever be the same.

They see each other less often, speak to each other less often and the flame weakens. Its brightness decreases. 

He feels himself dying with it. His well-kept secret will have remained with him. Denigrated, confused, not understanding how to return by his side.

Max lives his life in black for a few moments. Lay flat, go into 2019 as if nothing had happened. And discover some secrets, perhaps the least well kept. Talking with Pierre, finally noticing after his demotion what was wrong with his semblance of a smile and worrying, always.

On this level there is all it is. To worry about others, never about himself. Not wanting to think about his own feelings and how much it hurts just to visualize that smile that was once given to him.

— Who is it ?

Pierre asks him and he finds it difficult to face his crystal irises, so clear, which seem only to want to help him. He doesn't feel he deserves such empathy. Can’t even formulate his name but in a way the Frenchman nods as if he knows. 

Maybe he knows.

When he sees his soulmark fade for the first time, he closes his eyes. And wants to cry. And wants to die. He vomits several times in the hotel toilets and it’s finally Alex who finds him later in the evening, not having moved.

— I'm losing him. I am losing him.

He whispers it like a secret too heavy to carry and his teammate sadly nods as if he sees who he's talking about. 

Later the Thai takes him back to his room and watches over him until he falls asleep.

“This is not trivial. Three. You also have to talk about it.”

But that’s all that remains of their relationship now. It’s crumbling, fraying between his fingers and there is nothing he can do to fix it. He feels empty. 

His phone has a message the next day.

**is everything fine?**

Daniel.

He doesn't have the strength to answer him.

The race parade. It connects everything. In the hope that taking refuge in it will calm his pain, his discomfort, his misfortune. From a distance he watches the others and sees how this man, who should be his, flirts so easily with everyone in the paddock. Except him obviously.

And there are those times when the older one seems way too much with Charles, that it's Pierre’s soulmate doesn't change that. He seems to have replaced him and maybe that's a good thing. He questions his nature, his ambitions, he questions himself. Could start again old, destructive reflexes.

He is not supposed to complain and is not supposed to have a bad life but it’s just this accumulation that may cause him to lose "the love of his life". How can his former teammate not feel it ? 

Does he even care ? 

Is he the only one to feel this pain, this emptiness that spreads and looms in his chest ?

Pierre and Charles are finally together. He can swear he has never seen the Frenchman so happy and that’s nice after the last few months which have been complicated for him.

Well, before that, there is an agonizing period where Sebastian brings the Toro Rosso driver into the living room, very badly in shape.

He strokes his eyes and whispers soothing things, contrasting feelings, a little scared. Someone like him. And finally they call the dark-haired soulmate. He leaves the room.

— Are you okay, Maxy ?

He is leaning against the wall and Daniel gives him a comforting smile. So solar. At that moment, he really wants to hug him. Hold back.

— I hope he gets better. These soulmate stories ... don't always sound good, right ?

— Perhaps.

A sigh passes his lips. Where he hesitates, his interlocutor acts since he comes to take him in his arms.

— Do you know that I miss you ? Always. I didn't tell you because it's a bit complicated to talk about it right now, but it's true.

— You ...

Ball of emotions that tightens his throat.

— I miss you too, Dan.

Such happy days pass then. Not necessarily for him since after this tender moment, there is nothing or almost nothing. He wonders, oh wonders, if this was the last time they had this kind of gesture between them.

Opening dinner, small meeting, before the start of the grand-prix. He sits alongside Pierre, beaming, and Lando. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Daniel chatting with Nico and Seb and he does violence to look away.

— A bouquet of roses ?! exclaims Lando, impressed. Wow, that's ... wow.

— Not at all. I just feel like he's doing too much. He wants to be forgiven by any means possible, but the marks are almost all gone.

— It's nice to see you like that, happy.

He's totally out of the conversation, even if he's listening. He does not have the strength to take part in it. The Frenchman sketches a small smile, slightly pink cheekbones and ends up asking the Briton :

— And you ? Do you know who your soulmate is ?

— No, I ... I didn't care at first. But lately I … question myself more and more ...

He sees the younger man's gaze drifting over to a certain Spaniard sitting to his right. It wouldn't really surprise him.

— And you Max ? Daniel ?

He shakes his head from side to side.

— Should you talk to him about it ?

— I know, I know, just ... I'm tired. He's avoiding me again. What am I supposed to do ?

The older of their trio gently pats him on the shoulder. They exchange a collective sigh. Before realizing it and laughing.

Later he tries, he really tries to approach his mate. There's a crowd, he's starting to hate it.

— Daniel !

But the said barely puts his eyes on him, seeming more annoyed, perhaps not available enough. His smile falters.

— Not now, Max.

A casual attitude, a gesture colder, dry than the others, he freezes in place. Almost feeling embarrassment bite his cheek. This does not go unnoticed among the people he has just been rebuffed as a kid.

Besides the wound to his pride and to his heart, he soon notices a pain that developed on his left rib. He grits his teeth, pulls back. Pierre seeing him arrive quickly understands.

— Did he hurt you ? Are you okay ?

— I think I'll go back to the hotel.

— At least let me take you back, okay ?

Max finally accepts. The room is a five-minute walk from his home. The fact remains that this mark makes him feel like a burn. When they part, the other driver continues to look at him with concern. Closed door. Against his back. He is almost decided.

He goes to the bathroom. Take off his clothes quickly, one by one. Getting rid of that too heavy-to-wear costume. He's fed up. Already. Doesn’t even dwell on the sore that has appeared on his chest and grabs a razor.

He would like to say it's easy. That he can do it without trembling, without fearing it. He scratches, cuts his own skin. Hiss at the pain. At his mark he arrives almost hesitant. His hand drops, swallowing a line. He bites his lip.

The blood slides down his thigh and falls to the ground, forming a scarlet relief on the white ground. He sighs, throws the razor in the sink. Drop to the ground, legs against his chest. He remembers a song, one evening, a surprise in his playlist. A tune he hummed.

**and where did you go as I slipped**

He puts his phone down. Rises. Compress. Dressings. He knows how to do. He got used to it a long time ago. A shiver runs through him.

His wound heals over the next few days. Not enough for him to be cured on the podium in Brazil. His outfit presses a little on the bandage. He should at least avoid bleeding again, that's the main thing.

Pierre is at his side, on the podium. It's a good time. For both. He knows that the Frenchman will go find Charles afterwards.

He enjoys a few more moments. Stretches. It's not that bad at the end of the season, isn't it ? Soon a new year, new opportunities. He has time to get dressed before finding himself in front of Daniel. He wasn't really expecting it.

— What does the message you sent me mean ?

This little phrase appears before his eyes and he himself, oblivious to his own actions, has difficulty coping with it.

— Nothing. Forget it.

But where the Aussie should let him go, he's grabbing him by the wrist, unwilling to let him go anytime soon.

— Max. I'm sorry for the evening, I was just under pressure. I didn't mean to embarrass you like that.

— You do it all the time ! Or you ignore me. I don't know what’s the worst. I would have liked to act as if nothing had changed but everything has changed since we are no longer teammates. And it shouldn't be a surprise, really, but it still hurts so much.

Max stops struggling against the other driver’s grip and instead uses one of his arms to cover his eyes which are starting to fill with tears. He refuses to turn around. He doesn't want to sound ridiculous.

— Shouldn't be a surprise ? I don't understand why you say that.

— Logical isn’t it ? I'm not really the easiest person in the world to love and I-

— On that point, I think you're wrong. I'm sorry I went away, I was busy and I know that doesn't forgive anything. I was scared.

He needs to see what his former teammate is doing right now. He turns, vaguely wiping his eyes, the tears of which keep falling.

— Scared of what ?

Daniel has a deep sigh, his smile fades, less solar, more hesitant.

— To lose you.

— You can't lose me. You are my soulmate.

A secret so heavy that he finally lets go. It relieves him in a way, he feels much better. Until he saw the expression on the Aussie’s face. Undecided, hesitant, almost in denial.

— You are ... no, it cannot be possible ...

He himself steps back, struck by what seems to be the beginning of a rejection. He was scared. From the beginning. 

— Max, you ... why ?

Why what ? His words get stuck in his throat. He wants to forget everything, to erase everything. Return before this evening so that, at least, there is hope for the unknown. Everything is falling apart and so is he. He bites his lip until the taste of blood invades his mouth. He doesn't want him ?

— It's dangerous. For our careers. If everyone knows ... I never would have thought that-

— Oh shut up !

He can't help but think of Charles and Pierre, ultimately so happy, without really caring about others because after all they are together. Why, why, why ? Why doesn't he have the right to this kind of happiness too ?

Fatigue hits him violently. At least the room is empty so no one will see it. Suddenly he feels exhausted. Exhausted to the core. Wound up. He doesn't know much except that he can't take it anymore.

He collapses on his knees, lets himself fall, loosening the weakened grip of the one in front of him. He buries his face in both hands and it doesn’t take long before the sobs come out of his throat. With tears.

He is helpless. He feels younger than he ever has been. Love has worn him out already. Well, love ... It never has been. The expectation, the hope, the anguish have worn him out. Love no. He didn't even taste it. 

He feels so miserable, pathetic to let go like this. Alone.

Him kneeling in front of Daniel standing who does not seem to react.

His soulmark aches for a moment. Max knows it is disappearing. The Aussie realizes it too and sighs before kneeling in front of him.

— Max, talk to me. Why haven't you told me anything ?

— What ! You don't have to worry about it. A few more moments and you will be rid of the mark and of me. You will never have to worry about this stupid fate thing again.

— It's not stupid. I was carried away when I said that. Look, this might not be the best time to talk about it but I've known people, friends, who have had really bad experiences. That doesn't mean I want to get rid of you.

He shakes his head negatively. He does not want to be coaxed by false promises, lies.

— You said yourself that you didn't want it. It's dangerous. Our careers.

— And you will contradict me on it ? People judge what is not like them, that’s the truth. Even today.

— You would have a thousand reasons to find someone other than me.

— And I have a thousand reasons for wanting you.

The older man embraces him gently. He shivers at the touch. Tears wet the t-shirt of his interlocutor who does not seem to care.

— Don't give me false hope.

The Renault driver doesn't respond and just kisses his forehead, keeping him in his arms until he calms down completely. Then Daniel slips his hand against his side and frowns at the feeling of the bandage.

— Maxy, don't tell me that ...

— What ?

— Oh, my love. I'm sorry, really.

He would like to forget everything, to be able to say that he has come this far, to the apparent joy without any pain, without any scars. This is not true. His body testifies to it and these marks will eventually fade in favor of greater happiness. He hopes.

— Get up. I'll start to catch up right now.

— What are you going to do ?

He wipes the last tears from his eyes and nevertheless grasps the hand his companion offers him. They pick up their things and hardly ever leave each other. In their mad rush, he almost misses a stealth vision, in a hallway. Carlos kissing someone from the back. He doesn't have time to worry about it or really think about it.

He feels light for the first time in months. And it's strange, it seems almost fleeting to him, but it's real. Daniel's hand on his is very real. 

As real as the gaze filled with a thousand and one promises he throws at him.


End file.
